


All I Know About Love

by Likelightinglass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Other, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, The Golden Trio, but for now its platonic, could be shippy if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likelightinglass/pseuds/Likelightinglass
Summary: Why spend the night on the sofa when you can be the middle spoon in a Golden Trio sandwich?Or, Harry gets the cuddles he deserves.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Comments: 21
Kudos: 71





	All I Know About Love

_Only that the world out there is complicated,  
and there are beasts in the night, and delight and pain,  
and the only thing that makes it okay, sometimes,  
is to reach out a hand in the darkness and find another hand to squeeze,  
and not to be alone._

_-All I Know About Love, Neil Gaiman_

Harry woke with a start, trembling and anxious, with images of pain and death and terror fresh in his mind as he gasped for breath. 

It takes him a moment to realize where he is, and when, and that he's safe. The war is over, the dead are buried, there are no monsters creeping in these shadows. Just half unpacked moving boxes, odds and ends, empty pizza boxes and bottles of beer that had been left for morning. His mind whirs for a moment on the image of a large lumpy thing half lit by moonlight in his immediate scope of vision, before placing it as the halfway assembled cat tree for Crookshanks that Hermione had probably spent too much money on. 

Harry let the nightmare fade back, reminded himself where he was. It was Ron and Hermione's new London flat, and he had been crashing on the sofa, having stayed long after the rest of their friends and family had left, helping them get all moved in and settled. He had been tired, that much was true, and more than a bit tipsy, but certainly not unable to Floo himself home. It had barely taken any prompting at all from Hermione to just stay the night. Harry was grateful, he figured she knew he hadn't really wanted to leave. 

He didn't want to leave now either, but neither did he want to stay here, alone, curled up on a sofa and miserable while his best friends slept in the bedroom across the way. He eyed the door warily, seized by the absurd notion of knocking at the door and seeing if they were still awake. He had a sudden memory from years and years ago, at the Dursleys, when he was four or five years old. He'd been woken up by Dudley's loud, bellowing sobs and clambered out of the cupboard and up the stairs to investigate. Aunt Petunia was already there, fawning over him, cuddling and kissing him, words falling from her concerned lips about _Dudder's having a nightmare, come sleep with mummy and daddy._ and picking him up to bring him back to their room.

"Can I come too?" Harry had asked, watching the scene with a feeling like sadness that he hadn't recognized for what it was at the time. The sight had made his chest ache in a way he didn't like. At that age he wasn't _quite_ clear that he didn't get to have the things Dudley got, so he still bothered asking anyway. He just knew that he also felt very bad, and that his Aunt would be able to do something about that. And sleeping in her bed sounded nice, although Dudley would probably end up kicking him at least a little. 

Aunt Petunia had frozen in her tracks, Dudley still screaming in her arms. She barely glanced at him, but pursed her thin face into a tight frown Harry would come to know very well. "Go back to bed, Harry," she snapped coldly, then turned around and stalked off, shutting the bedroom door with a bang that had probably woken Uncle Vernon. He had just stared at the door for a long time, he remembered, before slinking back to his cupboard and curling around his pillow, holding it tightly and wishing it was warmer, softer. 

He hadn't bothered asking for things he knew he wouldn't get after that. Not that he'd had much opportunity, as that was when they'd started locking him in for the night "so he wouldn't wander".

Harry sat up on the sofa, his pillow clutched in his lap, stroking it absentmindedly with the tips of his fingers and looking at another closed bedroom door. The remnants of the nightmares were still making him jittery, and the melancholic feeling of the memory was making everything worse. 

He should just leave. He'd write a note, make some excuse and go…go home? That didn't sound appealing. Dark and foreboding Grimmauld Place was an unhappy prospect. Maybe he'd just stop off there, grab his broomstick, and go flying for a while. He thought idly of sneaking back into Hogwarts somehow. He had finally settled on going to St. Mungo's to sit by Snape's bedside yet again and just continue to stare at him until he woke up from his coma, when the bedroom door did what he least expected it to do, and creaked open. 

A tall, thin set of pajamas stepped out into the moonlight, and Harry jerked upright, clutching the pillow to him like a shield. 

"Harry? You awake?" Ron said sleepily, tilting his head. 

"Uh, yeah...I had a...I mean, I was just.." Harry trailed off, as if caught in the middle of a crime. Just what? Just about to leave? At three in the morning? He fought for a way to explain himself that didn't make him sound like a baby. 

"I thought I heard you shout," Ron said quietly. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Harry just nodded quickly. He wanted to speak, defend himself somehow, apologize for waking him, but found all the words just stuck in his throat. 

He didn't want to meet Ron's gaze, but when the seconds stretched out in the quiet of the evening he forced himself to look up.

Ron looked...concerned. And soft, and not annoyed or unhappy or cold. Harry got the distinct impression Ron was thinking of someone or something specific. Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything, but before he could Ron interrupted him. 

"That lumpy old sofa is enough to give anyone nightmares," Ron said, quirking the side of his mouth into a slight smile. "There's a perfectly nice bed right in here."

The utter impossibility of what had just been offered meant Harry took several seconds of staring just to comprehend that he had, in fact, heard what he thought he heard. If he didn't know Ron well enough he'd thought he might have used Legilimency to find the perfect way to mock him, but there was no unkindness in his face. 

Harry's brain was trying to figure out how to phrase polite refusal while he fought with the realization that he wanted that more than anything. To be comforted to sleep by his best friends. But that was _wrong_ and _weird_ and definitely not something adults needed. 

"You don't have to do that," Harry finally said with an aching disbelief, a phrase that sounded absolutely nothing like _no_. 

Ron just took a few steps closer, gently tugging him up by the shoulders. "Up you go," he said definitively. "Let's get some sleep, mate."

Harry let himself be led into the room. "But...Hermione…" he started to say. 

"Won't mind a bit," Ron finished firmly. "Lie down. She'll move around you."

The woman in question was sprawled halfway across the bed, seeming to have oozed into the empty space left behind when Ron had got up, hair sprayed wildly in every direction and snoring softly. She looked completely undignified and rather adorable, Harry thought with a smile. He was still clutching his pillow but moved in the direction Ron was gently pushing him, tentatively climbing into the bed and setting the pillow between the other two. True to his word, Hermione moved unconsciously, giving him space to lie down in the middle, before fitting herself against him. 

She reached out a hand over his chest, and Harry froze when she frowned a bit, moving over his torso and seemingly realizing the frame she was touching was very not Ron-like. She opened her eyes. "Oh, hello, Harry," she said with a casual yawn. She didn't move away. Harry kept his position, lying down stiffly, his arms against his sides as he didn't know what to do with them. Would Ron be angry his girlfriend was cuddling him? 

He glanced furtively between the two of them, who seemed to be having some sort of silent conversation. He held his breath, mentally preparing to be kicked out. 

"Harry's sleeping with us tonight," Ron finally said, and Hermione just nodded. She slithered closer to him, helping him turn to his side to settle less awkwardly as Ron climbed in finally on the other side, still sat up, waiting for Harry and Hermione to maneuver into a comfortable position.

Hermione swung a leg over his and an arm over his chest, holding him close against her. "This okay?" she muttered, her face against his neck and her warm breath in his ear. He nodded sharply. It was more than okay. It was the best he'd felt in...in a very long time, obviously, since he couldn't remember feeling better. She was very soft, and very warm, and her arm and leg had a very pleasant heaviness to them, keeping him close and safe and in place. 

"Are you...are you sure this is alright with you?" He asked quietly, but was only met with a soft snore behind him, Hermione having apparently fallen right back to sleep. 

Ron, being much taller than either of them, lied down on his back, his chest level with Harry and Hermione's heads, and reached out with his long left arm to tangle his hand in Hermione's hair. 

Harry took a chance. If Ron was willing to give this much, perhaps he'd be willing to go a little further. He tugged Ron just a little bit closer, and was immediately obliged, and rested his head against Ron's chest, his ear against the heavy thump of his heartbeat. Ron arranged the covers neatly over everyone, patting Harry's arm and getting comfortable. 

"Thank you," Harry said, so quietly he wasn't sure he'd even be heard. But he must have been, because a moment later, Ron gently parted the fringe of black curls and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Good night, Harry."

If Ron noticed the dampness on his shirt that followed that action, he was kind enough not to mention it, and Hermione, still mostly asleep, simply held him tighter in response to the slight shaking. 

Harry just nestled in between his two very best friends, warm, and safe and comfortable, and let himself be loved until falling into a peaceful, quiet sleep.


End file.
